Verisimilitude
by mjoelk
Summary: It's all nothing but an illusion...


_Hello, everyone. It's me, back to life after over a year of a very long writer's block. Right now, I'm just trying to get back into writing again. School has been very difficult for me and, because of the field I'm studying doesn't involve writing, I only took one writing class for a semester, but they're all codes. After that, it's all math and science classes._

_But now, I've decided to take a writing class for this semester, because somehow one of my friends wrote something and I got inspired by it. So I did some research and finally got me started writing. It's a bit different from the one in class, as we will be writing original fiction._

_Anyway, that's all I can say. I'll explain more at the end of the chapter. And review, if you enjoyed or are at least happy to see me here again._

* * *

A lone figure found himself awakened by a distant noise and saw nothing but blackness. The entire room was dimly lit, with the only source of light coming through the only window besides him.

_Am I locked up in a prison?_

And inside this very room is His Majesty himself.

Why he was locked up, he didn't know. He sat up and examined where he was.

_I still hear music and shouting below. I should be in that crowd._

_Yet...why am I here?_

There were scaffoldings at one corner farther away, covering whatever it was. He didn't bother wondering what it was underneath. At the other corner was an empty bookshelf. He couldn't remember what this room was for. All he knew was that this was one of the rooms, which has yet to be completed. Until his attention fell at the centre of the room...

It was a small, scaled-down figure of a castle, perched on a rocky hilltop. If the hill was included, the model itself would have stood at about a meter tall, while its width is about a meter and a half wide. All the parts required of a castle was there. The towers, the gatehouse, the keep, and the open courtyard were included, except for a small church, which was still being planned.

In a trance, he stood up, slowly approached the model, and fell to his knees before it. Somehow this tiny castle that stood before him resembled the one where he was holding a party that evening.

But then, he felt a presence nearby.

Overwhelmed with fear, he observed his surroundings, searching for this mysterious presence. He feared he was being watched.

And then he saw it...

That _being_.

Too gloomy for him to make out, he couldn't tell if he was seeing a ghost or some apparition.

Yet he knew this.

It had been torturing him since that evening.

_Der Mann im Schatten_.

Yet before he could open his mouth to shout, the thing vanished at once. How and why, he never knew.

Fear now succeeded into paranoia, he slid close to the smaller replica of his castle, threw his arms around it, and embraced it like a woman.

Then, his eyes closed, he fell into a reverie.

* * *

That evening, Ludwig decided to celebrate the completion on one of his rooms in his half-finished castle. From the outside, it seemed as if it was built out of a fairy tale; the inside was almost the same. The large hall was covered in works of art inspired by certain operas, in which each portion of the wall revealed certain scenes. Right below would be the throne room. Split into two storeys, it was the second largest room of the castle itself. The only part missing was the throne itself, which was still being designed to match the request made by the king himself.

After a few of the villagers had entered, they were followed by his closest friends and family, as well as his bride-to-be.

"Nothing is better than to summon one's family."

Ludwig turned to Roderich with a nod of silent agreement.

Roderich was one of his closest friends. Because of the fact that he's Austrian, he can never come to terms with his older brother, Gilbert. Both of their families held a long grudge against one another, primarily for what they believed in, aside from power. One can say there is a bloodless war out of their rivalry; yet, even in the ranks of aristocracy, the smallest of attributes is adequate for competition between the two prominent houses.

When he saw Gilbert among the crowd, Ludwig heard the young aristocrat sigh.

"Out of all things," Roderich muttered in fury, "he _has_ to be here."

"Who?"

"Your brother. Or _Seine kaiserliche und königliche Majestät_, I should say."

"He's family," Ludwig responded with a faint smile. "Even my mother said I must. And besides he wanted to see me anyway; it's been so long."

"Fine," Roderich replied in a huff. He crossed his arms. "But you must be happy now. Your family and fiancée are here tonight."

"So is your fiancée, the young princess. It's not only you whom I invited."

"She's my wife now. We married a month ago."

Just then, a young woman noticed the two and approached them. Yet for a moment, her face didn't match the magnificent dress she wore that night.

"I've heard you're here with His Majesty," she said, trying to sound formal in front of Ludwig, as she gave a formal bow to him.

Ludwig knew very little of his friend's new "wife", other than what she looked like. She wore a light-blue ballgown with the matching bell-shaped skirt. Her dark blonde hair piled up in a bun; her eyes light green; her figure nimble, as if she has quite an experience in horseback riding, which he noticed as she approached them earlier. Her footsteps almost galloping on the marble floor. He wondered if she was wearing boots rather than the heeled slippers.

"Ah, it's you, Elisabeta," Roderich answered. "Yes, he was telling me that you've just arrived, along with his family." He faced Ludwig. "You should try to enjoy yourself, alright? You seem distracted." Then he and Elisabeta merged with the crowd.

Deep in thought, Ludwig didn't hear a single word from him. "I will" was his only reply, listless and indifferent.

Without a word, the young man walked away to a corner and took a seat, apparently distraught about something.

He knew he should be indulging himself, but there was something odd going on. True, he can see the people dancing about on one side and chatting to one another at the other; he could see Roderich and his recently married wife dancing, the young lady pretending to smile as they danced. He knew the marriage was forced between them; Roderich's family had a long history of marrying other noble families to continue the family line.

As for his family, he watched his mother, the Queen, being greeted by the villagers, paying their respects in return. Beside the aging woman was his uncle, whom he greatly despised.

For one, Ludwig's father was his uncle's older brother. Both of the brothers were never close and rarely see each other; whereas Ludwig and Gilbert were very close, but visiting one another was nearly impossible, because of their royal duties. While the former is a king, the latter is an Emperor.

As for their relationship, it was nowhere close to friendly. One of the reasons being his uncle as the next in line on the throne, if His Majesty fails to bear an heir. That was what Ludwig feared the most. Another reason was simply because he had only met the old man only once throughout his reign and already hated him, just as much as he hated his own father.

Still, something feels strange in the hall that night and Ludwig doesn't like it.

"_Sa Majesté_."

He looked up and saw his bride-to-be leaning towards him, her face expressed with worry. Although they had been engaged for a month, against his own will and placed upon by his mother, he never knew at all. No matter how many times he asked for her name, he wouldn't listen either. Rather than referring her by name, he would simply call her "my dear" and converse to her only in French, as the young woman spoke barely any German.

"_Ma chère_," Ludwig spoke softly in French, "why are you here? It would be better if you join the crowd." He stared through those lovely verdant eyes, which he adored.

Already a young lady, she was only a month younger than him. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair was tied up in a neat bun for that evening. Ludwig had seen her with her hair down before, so he knew. She shared the same interest of the fine arts as him. Although she has a natural talent for painting, she had different feelings towards music; however, there were only six who were from her home country, in which one or two were more recognised*. While she respected Ludwig's very high regard of music and the arts, she has a slight distaste towards them. It simply contrasted her views and she feared that it would contradict on how her fiancée expresses his own. Nevertheless, she treats him with the highest respect as any lady engaged to His Majesty would.

"I haven't seen you with anyone other than your friend," she replied. "So I was worried that you're troubled about something." Then she quickly added, "Elisabeta told me."

Ludwig didn't answer. _I'm not surprised_ he thought. _Both of them are close friends._

The young woman offered her hand to him. "Come," she suggested, forcing a smile, "we should dance."

But Ludwig refused. "No," he said in response, turning his face away. "I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"I simply don't want to be with anyone. Not even you."

The lady withdrew her hand and stepped back, dazed by his answer.

"Is there something wrong?" She persisted, reaching a hand to him, but stopped. She knew Ludwig was vexed...his countenance towards her reveals why. "Should I tell your mother? She has to know..." Then, as she turned to her heel, she heard a furious roar.

"NO!"

Everything was too sudden for her. She felt a pair of hands grabbing her waist, then her feet lifting off the ground for a moment, before landing to her side. Once she fell down, she released a soft gasp of pain.

At once, everything became silent.

"You will _never_ tell her, _ma chère_." It came out from His Majesty's lips in a seething whisper. No one heard him, but her. Without a word, tears fell from her eyes.

_What has happened to him?_ She thought as she quietly wept. _He has changed greatly since the engagement. He'd never acted this way before. What became of him? Was it the great burden as a king, that made him react like this?_

* * *

Meanwhile, the hall remained still. The women, nobles and peasants alike, quickly rushed to the weeping young lady, comforting her after the sudden scene, while the men gave distraught expressions to the king, who was walking about in a hushed frenzy.

"Was he drunk?"

"What happened just now?"

"_Ihre Majestät_!"

"I don't know."

"The young woman is on the ground."

"I think something happened between her and His Majesty."

Murmurs as such echoed throughout the hall. Her mother, the Queen, quickly stood up when she heard her son's voice. She remained where she was. After asking a few of the villagers, she shook her head in disapproval of her son's behaviour that evening. She already knew of his peculiarity since he was a child, but not to this degree. But, before she could call out to his son and demand to explain himself to everyone, she noticed the king's friend Roderich rushing towards Ludwig, who was now on the ground, clearly exhausted.

"Ludwig! Ludwig!"

He heard the young man's footsteps approaching him, while he heard his distressed voice above him. Then he felt his shoulders being lifted, as he struggled to stand up. Once he was on his feet again, he faced to thank his friend. Instead, he released a anguished scream.

It wasn't Roderich.

The figure seemed like a ghost. Unlike its living counterpart, there seemed to be no sign of life on him. All of its garments were nothing but black, yet its pallid face made his skin crawl. It has no expression at all; it stood out as well. The eyes were sullen and fathomless, the thin lips deathly white like its skin, and the short hair almost white with thin streaks of blond. Yet it didn't seem elderly and at death's door; it was gentlemanlike and in bloom.

Horrified, he stepped away and sank into his knees in despair. His hands covered his face, hiding his terrified expression from everyone. He pondered in a whisper if it was real.

However, he realised something.

Somehow it looked _very much_ like him.

* * *

* Referring to the Romantic era (1815-1910). Two composers are from Belgium (César Franck and Henri Vieuxtemps). There are a few more from there, but I don't think they're recognised as much. Like their northern neighbour, the Netherlands, both of them didn't have as many composers, unlike France and Germany.

Translations:

_Der Mann im Schatten (English: "The Man in the Shadow" - this is not mine, as this was an actual character)_

_Seine kaiserliche und königliche Majestät ("His Imperial and Royal Majesty" - just assume that Gilbert really is an emperor here, like the nation he's personified as)_

_Sa Majesté/Ihre Majestät ("Your Majesty" - French/German)_

_Ma chère ("My dear" - I pray that's what it actually means. I didn't take French at all, so I don't know...I know what it is in German, though)_

* * *

_A cliffhanger at the end seems like a good stopping point for now._

_Unlike the first story I've written, this one is just over 2.000 words. But hey, I haven't written anything in over a year. I might as well call this as a comeback story, because I've been reading programming codes and equations since I started university last year. So it's not even close to a readable language and about third of them are Norwegian, too. Then add another third of the same thing, but in German, and the rest in English._

_Anyway, where to start? Well, I've based this story from a friend's story she's writing. At the same time, it's from this ballet that's more modern to the one she has (she hated contemporary ballet for some reason...then again, I despise operas that were modernised and became minimalist) and deals with another person altogether. You could just say it deals with Tchaikovsky's famous ballet _Swan Lake_, only more psychologically damaging. (I was so curious about it that I ended up begging my parents to buy the DVD of the performance, which they did, and it became my early birthday gift from them.)_

* * *

_Now about the characters. So we have Ludwig, Roderich and Gilbert (mentioned, but no speaking role), as well as Elisabeta (who turns out to be Roderich's wife, no surprise); Vash and Lilli aren't included, unfortunately, because of their age (16/17 and 14/15), which would be way too inappropriate to be part of the story and would be an anomaly to everyone. As for Elisabeta, she's one of the two characters who are bilingual, as Ludwig is the other one. _

_Usually when I pair Ludwig with someone, it would have to be Feliciano (unless you like "odd pairings", then it's Elisabeta). But for the sake of the story, I have to use a character I've never used before. And it happens to be Belgium. I don't really know which name is good for her, though, as she doesn't have an official name yet. (But if I have to choose, it's Emma. It matches her somehow.) For the sake of inaccuracies, I just pretended that Ludwig never found out her name because he never wanted to marry her and, despite having things in common, they both know it wouldn't go well, which is what Ludwig wanted. _

_However, I have to admit that I feel sorry for everyone in this story. I wasn't expecting it to be _this _depressing...which I apologise greatly. But I'll give an advanced warning: it gets worse as the story goes on...and it will __**not**_ _have a happy ending. So...you have been warned._


End file.
